


Cabbages and Kings

by Lokei



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Ice Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-28
Updated: 2008-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokei/pseuds/Lokei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the people in her life, Daniel's always been one of the easiest for her to talk to. So why can't she tell him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabbages and Kings

**Author's Note:**

>  Yet more thanks and love to[](http://sg-fignewton.livejournal.com/profile)[ **sg_fignewton**](http://sg-fignewton.livejournal.com/), who wrestled down, wore out, and otherwise wrangled my unruly run-ons.

This is really not good.When Sam gets this twitchy, it’s usually a prelude to some gigantic revelation, but so far this one is unforthcoming.She just keeps shooting me these looks out of the corner of her eye, opening her mouth, and closing it again by way of biting her lip and occasionally humming.

So now I’m getting twitchy, and I have a very Jack-like desire to start singing something random and annoying from Sesame Street, just to break the tension in this car.I won’t, of course, because Sam’s driving, and her driving is only moderately less offensive than Jack’s.The last thing I want is to cause an accident. 

Think, Daniel.Twitching is not going to solve anything, but the IQ just on this side of the car should be up to figuring out how to solve Sam’s nerves, even if Sam’s being no help. What is it that’s got her so worked up?Maybe I should go at this her way—scientific method and all.

Did we encounter any situations in the last three days in which one or more of us on SG-1 was in mortal peril?Well, Jack annoyed the hell out of that chieftain, the one with all the pins on his vest—Narvo, that’s it.Nearly got himself turned into a carnival attraction, but that was pretty much par for the course for us.So it’s not a ‘you nearly died, Daniel, let me feed you cookies!’ kind of twitch.Pity.  Her chocolate fudge drops are incredible.

Okay, it's not mortal peril, so…Did we run into any old flames or uncomfortable family reunions?  We haven't heard from the Tok'ra recently, so there are no Jacob issues or possible sightings of Lantash-yet-again-miraculously-alive.It also isn’t any of the other folk lodged in Jolinar's memories, which have given Sam the screaming meemies in the past.No messages or reunions with any Tollan representatives.She laid Jonas Hanson’s ghost to rest long ago.

Let's get back to solid clues here, Daniel— looking out the window, it does seem like we could be going to the ice cream parlor not far from Sam's house, and that's where we always end up when Sam's having a romantic crisis.  I wonder if she knows that she appears to associate different flavors with different ex-boyfriends and other entanglements?   

Jonas Hanson, for instance, is cherry-chocolate chip.  I'm still trying to figure out why you would want to pollute chocolate chip ice cream with cherries, but apparently Sam's got a thing for mixing fruit with dark chocolate.Anything to do with family issues tends to be black raspberry ice cream with hot fudge sauce, and whipped cream if it's gotten really bad. And lest we forget, Narim is vanilla bean caramel ripple.I’m tempted to believe that’s because it’s the same coloration as Schrodinger.

Topping the ludicrous meter, however, are Martouf and Lantash, who in Sam’s comfort food chart are apparently represented by Moose Tracks ice cream.  If Jack knew he'd laugh his socks off, which is why I'm never telling.  Jack thinks the Moose Tracks in my freezer is for bribing my neighbor's cat, apparently, and I let him believe it.  It saves on wear and tear on his sarcasm glands.Jack has very decided opinions on desserts: mostly, he decides he likes them. For some reason, though, he’s uncharacteristically picky about ice cream. He’s a mint chocolate chip man all the way, but I’m under strict orders never to let that slip.I’m not supposed to know about his weakness for Hoodsies, either, but I’m going to use that knowledge if he ever gets on my case for liking cookie dough scooped on top of a layer of coffee ice cream.

And absolutely none of this is helping me figure out what’s up with Sam. It does tell me that I know probably far too much about my friend’s romance-to-comfort-food ratio, and I possibly eat far more ice cream than I should.The turn for the ice cream parlor is just ahead and…nope.

“Not an ice cream outing, then?” I’m not sure my voice is as casual as I want it to be, but Sam appears to be wired enough not to notice.

“Ice cream?No, why?”There’s that kind of not-quite-there laugh in her voice that makes me want to run for the hills, because she sounds like that usually right before something explodes.

And now I’m twitchy again.Classic.What’s going on with her, anyway?She’s looking at me again—oh.Right.She asked me a question.

“Well, you said you needed to talk.That often involves frozen dairy products, as Teal’c would probably observe.”

“Oh, right.” Sam fidgets with the radio and I sit on my hands.They always give my agitation away.

“This isn’t really an ice cream level discussion,” Sam continues finally.“It’s really better we talk at my house.”

Oh, that’s not good.Sam can bake, but she’s not much of a cook, which means usually if we’re just hanging out, we end up at my place, or Jack’s if it’s a team get-together.The only time I can really remember a ‘discussion’ at Sam’s place was while Jack was trapped on Edora.Unlike the college stereotype about engineers and the hard science types, Sam’s not much of a drinker.None of us on SG-1 are.Too many control issues.I swear, there are days Jack and Sam make me look relaxed, and I know that’s going some.But that night, Sam put away enough liquor to leave her loose and droopy on the couch after confessing just how afraid she was that she just wasn’t smart enough to pull off her particle accelerator miracle machine idea, and that we’d never get Jack back.This led to the confession that there are days she is pretty sure she’s not as smart as everyone thinks she is, and when I told her that everybody has days like that she sniffled on my shoulder, told me I was a better brother than her brother, and passed out.So I got a compliment and snot on my favorite shirt, and the dubious pleasure of pouring a drunken Major into bed. She hadn’t even had that much to drink, it was the exhaustion that took it out of her.I know how that goes.

I’d really rather not go through an evening like that again.

Some of my concern must be showing on my face, because Sam pats me on the knee and gives me a bright smile.“Don’t worry Daniel, we’re almost there.”

Like that helps.

But she’s right, and we’re pulling into her driveway.My foray into scientific detection has gotten me pretty close to nowhere, and left me with a craving for ice cream.Figures.

Sam’s still doing the fidget thing, and as soon as the door opens, I’m really going to have to just reach out and grab her by the shoulders and tell her she can tell me anything.She ought to know it anyway after all this time, but I hear it’s the sort of thing women like to be told.Or so Sam tells me.

Sam’s got her hand on the door and she looks back over her shoulder at me, and I put on my warmest ‘I’m listening’ face, and all of a sudden her face fills with this mischief that is always big trouble when it’s directed at me and—

A huge amount of noise bursts through the open door, and I’m pretty sure I’m gaping like a goldfish.Sam’s living room is full of people and balloons and some very odd color combinations of streamers, which Teal’c is standing underneath with proprietary pride.

Oh god.

Sam laughs and pulls me inside.

“Happy Birthday, Daniel.”


End file.
